


Friendly Beast

by mikhailomeddows



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Angst, Based during season 4-5 ish, Brief Mentions of 3x6, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Werewolf Ian, Werewolves, brief descriptions of violence, like i'm talking very brief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 01:51:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16588487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikhailomeddows/pseuds/mikhailomeddows
Summary: He’s bitten on a Thursday.





	Friendly Beast

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very weird adaption to the typical Werewolf story. Um, I have no clue where my inspiration came from but please enjoy!

He’s bitten on a Thursday. 

 

He’d left the base camp late at night, when all the other recruits were fast asleep and all he could see when he shut his eyes was tattooed fingers in the loose grip of a feminine hand.

 

He knew the cost of leaving camp was not worth it at all, but in that moment, he could think of nothing worse than laying on top of his already made bed, listening to the snores of 30 or so other men and wishing away thoughts of blood and guns and the Russian whore. 

 

He only grabs his jacket on the way out, opting to stay in his white vest and boxers even though the temperatures outside were below freezing. He was barely fazed when the cool air hit him once he’d managed to sneak out, nothing fazed him that much anymore, not after everything he’d experienced in the last year. 

 

He stays on the grounds of the military base, wandering near the barbed wire fences that barred the recruits from the real world, and only blinks when he sees movement in front of him. 

 

A black mass was sneaking across the grounds, wide but only about the height of Ian’s waist. He leaned forward slightly, squinting his eyes to distinguish the black figure from the darkness of night, but before he was able to draw a conclusion, the thing pounced. 

 

One second Ian was standing tall and the next he was on his back on the ground, a long snout that bared sharp, yellow teeth snapping in front of his face. 

 

Ian was almost glad for the thrill of terror that ran through his veins, showing he could still feel something, but he was too busy gasping air as the beast held him down with his strong paws and huffed revolting breaths into his face. 

 

For a moment Ian thought he would get away unscathed. The creature - a wolf, Ian presumed - seemed to calm down for a moment, sniffing around Ian’s face and neck with a wet nose, but then his jaw opened impossibly wide and clamped down on Ian’s chest. 

 

He tried not to scream but it was ripped out of him without his consent. He could feel the teeth digging into his flesh and the blood pumping out of the open wounds, but before long the beast had let go of its punishing grip and bounded off back into the night. 

 

Ian lay there, hand uselessly pressing against the wound (much too large for one hand to cover) and let out silent screams as tears rolled down his face. 

 

He was sure he was going to die in that moment, lying there on the cold ground of the military camp where he was known as Gallagher- Phillip Gallagher at that. 

 

As his breath began to hollow, he let his eyes flutter shut, and bit back one final sob as he saw those hands clamped together again. 

 

——

He woke up at 6am in his top bunk to the yelling of the Drill Sergeant, and that would have been enough to convince him that everything that happened had been a dream had it not been for the searing pain in his chest and his, originally, White vest stained crimson with his blood. 

 

He had no time to change his shirt before they were ordered to stand in front of their pristinely made beds, the Drill Sergeant eyeing each recruit like a hawk. 

 

They let him go as soon as they figured out what the blood was from. The army didn’t allow Werewolves and it was evident now that that was exactly what Ian was. 

 

Just like his mother. 

 

——

He made it to Boys Town on a Saturday and the manager of The Fairy Tail barely looked him up and down before offering him a job as a dancer. He took it, of course, and spends the rest of the day attempting to find somewhere to live. 

 

He contemplates going home, but the thought of seeing Mickey with that girl on his arm is enough to make him sick. 

 

He eventually ends up spending the night curled up on a bench, huddled under his jacket as heavy snow falls onto him. 

 

He wakes up hungrier than he thought possible, his stomach growling obnoxiously loud and causing all sorts of cramps and random bursts of pain to spread throughout his body. 

 

He eventually spends a large amount of the little money he had on a sandwich stuffed to the brim with different cuts of meat and sauces and devours it so quickly he questions if he even bought it in the first place. 

 

Because he’s still hungry. Granted, not as hungry as he was 10 minutes ago, but his stomach still rumbles, and he scavenges the place for anything he could eat. 

 

He passes a large rubbish bin, and cringes at the pungent smell of mixed waste, but his nose practically twitches when it picks up the whiff of a burger amongst the trash. 

 

He looks around, noticing that no one was looking at him, before slipping into the alley with the rubbish and opening the lid hesitantly. The smells become even stronger once he removes the lid, and he steps back involuntarily and shoves a hand over his nose before peering inside. Atop of all the rubbish lays a McDonald’s box, a half-eaten burger sitting inside. 

 

Ian blinks as his stomach begins rumbling with more aggression, and something inside him yells for him to eat it. That he’d be less hungry if he just ate it. Ian blinks once more as his eyes zero in on the burger, everything in his peripheral vision becoming a blur, before shoving the lid down in disgust. 

 

The thing inside him howls and growls, yelling at him for not feeding them, but Ian just shakes his head slightly before making his way to the Fairytale and attempts to shut off completely as he slips into the gold shorts and sleazy tie. 

 

——

He does his first line of coke in the bathroom with one of his clients after he’d slipped him 25 bucks into the waistband of his shorts. 

 

Everything stops for a moment after he snorts up the powder. The sweat dripping down the his naked, shining back, the feel of the client’s hand sneaking up his thigh, the animalistic, violent urges yelling at him from the inside, those hands clasped together. 

 

He laughs easily with his client as he flirts with him and ends up sucking him off for another 50 dollars.

 

It all comes rushing back as he steps out of the bathroom and into the harsh lights of the club. He feels dirty as he steps back onto the podium, the admiring eyes making his skin crawl instead of feeding into his ego. The hands that easily slip money into his waistband make him shake slightly in terror and anger and he almost listens to the viciously growled comments from inside his head about ripping off their fingers or breaking their knuckles. 

 

He starts taking every drug offered to him by the clients and enjoys the small moments of peace after taking them. Eventually, people end up bringing drugs specifically for him, so he would grind on them for 25 dollars or blow them for 50. He didn’t mind though, he got more out of it than them anyway. 

 

——

Mickey finds him on one of the benches he occupies at night on a Monday. 

 

He’s huddled under a thick coat he’d stolen from a store and sipping on a beer when his voice sounds in the quiet of the night. 

 

“Gallagher?” It’s tentative, something Ian wasn’t used to associating with Mickey Milkovich. Ian doesn’t look up straight away, he spends his sweet time finishing up the beer before turning towards the direction of the voice. 

 

He tries to ignore the skip of his heart as his eyes meet the blue ones a couple feet away, but the thing inside him roars with mocking laughter. 

 

Mickey hesitantly steps forward, and, after noticing the way Ian didn’t flinch back or yell at him, he moves to sit beside him on the bench. 

 

They don’t speak, but Ian could feel Mickey’s gaze on him as he stares forward unseeing into the darkness, the voice whispering words he couldn’t understand to him now. 

 

One thing he does notices is how good Mickey smells. Even before Ian was bitten, he enjoyed Mickey scent, would bury his face into his neck as he fucked into him and inhale (when Mickey allowed him, of course), But now he was practically suffocating on Mickey’s intoxicating scent. It was strong and pulsed off him in waves that danced around his nostrils, causing a better high than any of those drugs ever did. He smelt like cigarettes with an underlying smell of the cheap body wash he always used to use, but it was overpowered greatly by a new aftershave he’d obviously lathered on. It was nice, but it distracted him from Mickey’s true scent- warm. He always smelt warm, that was the only way Ian could describe it, and god Ian hadn’t felt warm in months. 

 

“Your family’s looking for you, man,” Mickey spoke, eventually breaking the silence. Ian spared him a quick glance to show he acknowledged what he had said before turning back to facing determinedly forward. “Look, if you don’t wanna talk to me that’s cool but speak to your family, they’re worried sick about you.” 

 

Ian eventually nodded tightly but didn’t look at Mickey at all this time. He feared that if he glanced at him for longer than a second, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together any longer and it would take an eternity to put him back. 

 

There was a moment of silence before Mickey sighed and stood up from the bench, cringing at the wet feeling that now clung to his legs, before walking back the way he came. 

 

Ian let out a shaky sigh once Mickey’s form disappeared from his sight and dug the palms of his hands into his eyes to stop the tears that had already begun falling.  

 

He fell asleep an hour later to manic laughter inside his head as he tried to crush the tingling and fuzzy feeling Mickey had left in his wake. 

 

——

He wakes the next day on the floor of someone’s bedroom, a blanket thrown hazardously over him. It takes him a second to take in his surroundings, but when he does his breath catches in his throat when he recognises the posters decorating the room and the dirty curtains thrown open around the windows. 

 

He eventually spares a look at the bed, the bed he’d spent so many hours in wishing he could stay there forever, to find a harsh, heavily pregnant woman sneering down at him. 

 

Ian recognises her instantly, and his heart and breath speed up as the growling inside his head gets louder and louder and for the first time Ian considered that perhaps it was protecting him. 

 

“It is past noon, you sleep all day,” She starts, looking down at Ian as if he was dirt at the bottom of her shoe. And in that moment, Ian felt less than that. His thoughts were rapid and barely understandable, and the growling was so loud it was practically deafening. “You leave now. If you stay, I bash your orange head.” For the first time Ian notices the hammer inside her tight grip, and Ian caught a flash of those hands lightly gripping the man he loves own. 

 

Ian quickly scrambled out from under the covers, not willing to hear the rest of the threats the Russian had up her sleeve for him and left the Milkovich home as quickly as he deemed possible, heart jumping when he briefly took in the sight of the familiar living room. 

 

He makes his way back to the Gallagher house, sighing softly before opening the door with a fake smile and accepting Fiona’s excitable hug. 

 

——

Mickey comes out on a Saturday. 

 

Ian’s not entirely sure what provokes him so much that day, but before he knows it, he’s all but yelling at Mickey, attempting to be louder than the angry ramblings in his head, and preparing to walk out the door. 

 

“...I’m fucking gay!” The rambling stops when Mickey yells the words. It seems like everything in Ian’s body stops except from the fast _thump, thump, thump_ of his heart. “You happy now?” Mickey raised an eyebrow, his voice wavering over fear and tears, and Ian could practically smell the terror emitting from him. 

 

When Terry charges towards Mickey, every synapse in his body screams at him to attack, protect. The growling in his head becomes so loud he covers his ears involuntarily, even though he knew the sound was completely internal, before he submits to it for once and charges at Terry, ripping him off his boyfriend and head-butting him with new found strength. 

 

——

He turns for the first time on a Tuesday. 

 

It’s not full moon or anything like that, it’s not even that dark really, but yet he still turns. 

 

His in the Gallagher house, sat on the sofa next to Mickey, the rest of his siblings scattered around the home. 

 

He doesn’t realise what’s happening until it’s too late. It starts off as a deep chuckle inside his head, but he’d quickly adjusted to blocking that noise out and just snuggles closer to Mickey, but it grew louder much more rapidly than usual. Then, his joints began to ache. He moved his ankle in an attempt to ease the dull throb, but it just got worse and worse, and he became restless as the ache reached all his bones. He stood up quickly, rolling his neck and moving his knees, but nothing he did appeased the pain steadily growing. 

 

Mickey’s worry was drowned out completely by the laughter in his head, and Ian quickly marched around the circumference of the small living room, barely acknowledging his siblings around him. 

 

Then, an all mighty crack sounded, and he was forced to collapse forward in pain, a yell ripping from his throat. The cracks didn’t stop, and even he heard them over the cackling, and it was in that moment, as his bones rearranged, and dark ginger fur began to grow rapidly over his skin, that he knew what was happening. But it was far too late to move now, he was struggling to breathe steadily let alone even contemplate moving. 

 

None of the Gallagher’s or Mickey dared touch him as he transformed from human to beast on their carpet, all too terrified to move from their place. 

 

Eventually, Ian rose from his place on the floor, growling as he got used to the new placement of his bones. 

 

He turned around to face his family, and in his brief moment of sanity he thought about how guilty he felt for not telling them. He hid the scars from all of them as much as possible, glad they’d healed pretty quickly and were just large white marks dotted around his chest, but he should have warned them. 

 

He could see the fear in all their eyes, but specifically he could see the recognition in his siblings. They’d seen this all before, had all been witnesses to Monica’s transformation at one point or another, but they’d had a plan back then: get as far away from her as possible. Now, they had nothing, they didn’t know what wolf Ian was going to be like or how he’d react to sudden movement, and Ian wished they’d had time to discuss his own plan. 

 

The sanity lasted barely a few seconds before all thoughts turned animalistic, primal and vicious. 

 

He growled loudly at his family, saliva dripping from his mouth and sharp teeth bared and snapping. Vaguely, he could acknowledge the fear evident in the room, but his vision was blurred by the sudden rage that filled his body. He was shaking as he barked loudly at the people in front of him, before pouncing and taking down the first person he could. 

 

It was Lip, the small part of his human brain supplied, but it was silenced by wild, animalistic needs to rip and tear and kill. 

 

He clawed and teared at Lips shirt, licking up the blood that poured out after his sharp claws. He went to bite, but something about his smell made him stop, he couldn’t bite him, not yet at least. So, he continued scratching and clawing, growling and snapping heavily at the terrified face below him. 

 

He could hear the screams around him and felt the shoves at his heavy body, but that did nothing to deter him, he barely even moved. That was until he heard a “Stop!” From beside him. 

 

It was scared, he could tell, but it held a level of authority with it that had Ian stopping and looking up at the sound of the voice. 

 

It was Mickey, he acknowledged, but in that moment, he didn’t see him as his boyfriend, he saw him as something higher, a figure of authority- an alpha. His blue eyes were wide, and he had a hand out in front of him, a palm facing Ian. “Stop” he said again, this time as a whisper. 

 

Ian whimpered slightly before crawling off Lips body to stand in front of Mickey. No one moved as he bowed his head slightly, before nuzzling against Mickey’s outstretched hand, tail wagging slightly. He continued rubbing up against Mickey, moving closer once Mickey retracted his hand, and the Gallagher’s deemed it safe enough to help their bleeding brother. 

 

When Mickey began leading Ian upstairs, he happily followed and left the Gallagher’s downstairs, shakily cleaning up their broken brother. 

 

——

When Ian woke up, he was human again, his head snuggled into Mickey’s chest, but he felt an exhaustion he’d never experienced before crushing him. 

 

When Mickey awoke, he pretended to be asleep and even the soft kiss to his head wasn’t enough to stop the guilt and sadness creeping up on him. 

 

He didn’t move for three days and barely ate or drank anything that was offered to him. He couldn’t, his bones ached and the mental pain he felt was excruciating and exhausting enough to keep him bedridden. 

 

His siblings had all come in one by one telling him it wasn’t his fault, that Lip was okay and that he didn’t blame him, that they’d get through this together, but he couldn’t find the energy in him to respond. Mickey slept on the floor beside his bed, just like he’d done when he first moved into the Gallagher home, and Ian was grateful, because he was certain he couldn’t deal with any constant contact for a while, but he still missed the feel of Mickey’s breathing beside him. It was soothing, and it was something he could focus on to distract him from the growling in his head. 

 

Granted, right now the voices were at a minimum, but he knew as soon as he was well enough to get out of bed they’d come racing back and they’d eventually send him back to the mattress and sheets. 

 

Ian spoke again for the first time on a Sunday. 

 

Lip was sat at the edge of the bed, and even in his current state Ian could see the way he winced when he sat down or moved or even breathed slightly too heavy. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said as Lip recounted his day, his voice hoarse with misuse and thick with tears that were falling steadily onto the pillow beneath him. 

 

Lip tried not to show any reaction, but Ian saw the way he jumped and then winced and moved to sit closer to Ian. 

 

“You have nothin’ to be sorry about,” Lip eventually said with a shrug. “That wasn’t you, and I know you didn’t get yourself bitten on purpose.”

 

“I should have told you though.” Ian was sobbing silently as he choked out the words, but instantly began to calm when lip threaded his hand through his greasy, matted hair. 

 

“Yeah, maybe you should have,” Lip began, and Ian felt his heart break with guilt. “But I know why you didn’t. You were ashamed, and you didn’t want to admit you were like Monica. I get that, I’d probably do the same thing. But, Ian, get this through your head. You’re not Monica, because I know as soon as you recover from this, you’re gonna get help. Monica would never have done that, she’d rather put her family at risk instead of tame that beast inside her. And I know you’ll never do that, you’ll always put family first and I know this little set back ain’t gonna stop you,” 

 

Lip stayed with Ian for about an hour more, just sitting in silence and providing comfort for his brother, before he noticed Mickey leaning against the bedroom doorway. 

 

Lip looked down to make sure Ian was asleep before carefully climbing off the bed, as to not jolt Ian, and made his way out of the room. 

 

He stopped briefly when he reached Mickey in the doorway and laid a hand against his shoulder. Mickey was looking at his boyfriend on the bed, his eyes conveying sadness, the forehead wrinkles that had been a prominent feature on his face for the past week and a half reinforcing that. 

 

Lip smiled sadly as him before whispering, “he’s gonna be okay, Mickey. We’ll make sure of it.” 

 

Mickey stayed a few minutes more after Lip left, just staring at Ian’s form, but his eyes became lighter as Ian turned around and faced him. 

 

“Hi,” Ian whispered, voice catching on the vowel. 

 

“Hi,” Mickey whispered back, and silently followed the plea in Ian’s eyes to comfort him. 

 

He removed the hoodie he’d been wearing along with his shoes before settling beside Ian in the single bed. He stroked his boyfriend’s cheek as he looked into his eyes, his own portraying hope whilst Ian’s were still a little broken, but lighter than before. Mickey kissed Ian’s forehead, before lying his head back down beside him and blinked away the tears that began to form as Ian’s own hand reached up to stroke his.  

 

——

He found the website quick enough after he and Mickey had scrolled through article after article on werewolves. 

 

It was about a group of werewolves’ who resided in the Southside who were all willing to help new werewolves’ control their form. Of course, they questioned the legitimacy of the website, but after a bunch of digging they deemed it safe enough, and eventually found out about a new meeting they were holding. 

 

Ian gripped Mickey’s hand tightly as they entered the hall, and the growls grew significantly quieter once he registered the people in the room. 

 

A bubbly girl bound up towards them, her long blond hair swaying behind her, giving the impression of a wagging tail. 

 

“Hi! I’m Theodora, but you can call me Theo.” She extended her hand quickly towards the boys, and Ian took it with a chuckle, introducing himself easily. Mickey didn’t respond as enthusiastically, just shook her hand limply and mumbled his name. 

 

“Are you new?” She asked, eyes wide and glassy, and if Ian hadn’t already known she was a wolf he’d have said she did an incredible impression of an excitable puppy. 

 

Ian scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but felt lighter and safer when Mickey squeezed his hand in encouragement. “Uh, yeah.”

 

“Oh cool! I was bitten when I was 10 so it’s been about 7 years now,” she explained and suddenly Ian couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so bubbly with something constantly screaming and growling inside your head. 

 

“Are you here for help?” She began, tilting her head, but continued before Ian had time to open his mouth. “I can help if you want. I can tell you’ve got an angry one up there and I’m good with those,” she said, pointing to her head. Ian’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before she spoke again. “You have a certain aura about you. I’m good at reading auras so I knew as soon as you and your boyfriend stepped in that you were an angry one.” 

 

Ian blinked before turning to Mickey, who was as equally confused if not more so than him, but just shrugged as an answer. Ian smiled slightly before turning back to Theo, who was braiding a strand of her hair whilst looking back at Ian, eyes unblinking. “Sure thing.” 

 

They invited her into their home, and she excitedly stepped through the threshold, immediately moving around and touching everything she could. Ian and Mickey sat on the couch uncomfortably as she continued to ooh and ahh at all the little knickknacks that littered the living room, but she eventually settled down and sat on the wooden coffee table facing the two boys with wild eyes. 

 

“So, first things first, you have to accept what you are. There’s no point fighting against it, it’s not going to go away and there’s nothing you can do to make it stop. Acceptance, however, is the first step to having full control of what happens to you.” Ian was sort of glad at how straightforward Theo was. She wasn’t stepping lightly around the facts or censoring any gory details, she was stating what needed to be stated, and he was grateful. 

 

“Secondly, you’ve gotta talk to that thing in your head. And I mean literally, have conversations with it, ask it questions, get to know it. But don’t become obsessed with it. Speak to other people as well, like your wonderful boyfriend here- “she gestured to Mickey with a sweet smile, who scowled and crossed his arms, but a blush was evident on his cheeks. “- and your family. And it’s probably not gonna want to talk to you civilly at first, but whatever you do, don’t ignore it. If it starts putting bad thoughts in your head, scold it. If it’s protective of you, thank it, tell it a god damn joke if you have to. Just don’t ever ignore it, because it will make changes much worse for you.” 

 

Ian looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers and feeling angry at himself for not even attempting to try and tamper down the voices with communication. He’d seen Monica do it a couple times and the weeks that followed after where always the best, she acted like a real mother, but the idea of acknowledging the beast inside him more than he had to was too much for him to handle. 

 

“You’ve been ignoring it, haven’t you,” Theo whispered, placing a delicate hand on Ian’s knee. He guiltily nodded his head, tears burning behind his eyes. He felt Mickey kiss his shoulder from beside him, but he felt too ashamed to look up and smile at him. 

 

“That’s alright, but you seriously need to start as soon as possible,” she smiled sadly at him, rubbing his knee softly before withdrawing her hand. “After that, try and attempt to turn by yourself. All you have to do is tell that little voice that you’re ready to turn, simple as that, see.” She stopped before whispering to herself, her eyes closed. 

 

Loud cracks and pops sounded through the room, and the boys winced in sympathy as Theo’s bones began twisting and re-aligning themselves, and thick blonde fur began rapidly growing on her skin. In a matter of seconds, a blonde wolf sat where Theo had previously occupied, its tail wagging and thumping against the coffee table. 

 

Ian let out a surprised laugh when the wolf leans forward and sniffed Ian’s hand before licking it affectionately and barking happily. The wolf acted more like a dog, happily running around the downstairs of the Gallagher house and alternating between lying her head in Ian and Mickey’s laps, and even Mickey couldn’t stop an amused smile twitching on his lips as she chased her tail. 

 

Eventually, the wolf found her way under the hidden space beneath the stairs, and when she emerged again, she was Theo, grinning broadly and flushed from exertion. Ian immediately began clapping and hollering at her, and even Mickey begrudgingly joined in as she did a delicate little curtsy and walked back to sit on the coffee table. 

 

“Changing back is a little more difficult. You have to make the animal listen to the human part of you again and request to be turned back. They can’t deny though, so that’s a plus,” she explained. “And once you’ve mastered that, you pretty much have control. But you gotta keep at it forever, pretty much. If you start ignoring it, it’s gonna get angry again and start changing whenever it pleases. And you do have to change at some point, you can’t just ignore that. I suggest once a month at least, it gets rid of the itch of needing to turn and also pleases the little guy upstairs.” She rolled her eyes upwards to look into her head before giggling and flicking a piece of hair that fell into her face. “Any questions?” 

 

——

Ian changes on his own accord on a Thursday. 

 

It happens after months of gradually connecting with the voice in his head, he decided to name it Curtis, and slowly creating a friendship. 

 

It was awkward at first, Ian not knowing how to talk with something inside him and becoming self-conscious when anyone else was around, and Curtis only responding in growls or mocking, manic laughter. 

 

Eventually though, they became civil, and Ian found it more easy to talk to Curtis around other people. He found out that Mickey actually found it endearing when Ian spoke to Curtis, and often rested his head against Ian’s chest as he mumbled away to Curtis about everything and anything. 

 

And surprisingly, Mickey never felt jealous of Curtis for taking so much of Ian’s time, because Ian always made sure he shared the same amount of information with him, if not more. 

 

Ian also said how Curtis was always silent whenever they had sex or engaged in any type of intimacy. He said it was something to do with mates and the whole Alpha thing, but Mickey didn’t mind, it meant Ian’s mind and body was focused solely on Mickey in those moments, and he relished in the attention. 

 

Ian wasn’t sure when him and Curtis crossed the civil line into the friend’s category, but suddenly he didn’t find speaking to Curtis a chore or something he had to do, it felt natural and easy. 

 

Sure, sometimes his family would look at him funny when he came around to visit and ended up speaking or laughing to himself at random intervals, but he’d long gotten over that, because the person whose opinion mattered the most would more often than not rest on him as he spoke to the beast inside his head. 

 

The day he decides to turn willingly for the first time is a bright and sunny day in the middle of July. The weather was warm, as it always was during the Chicago summer, but it wasn’t the excruciating heat they’d been experiencing for the past week or so, so Ian deemed it a perfect day to try and test out his new skill. 

 

He’d asked Mickey to leave the bedroom, just in case something went wrong, and he let out a few calming breaths before whispering to Curtis. 

 

“I’m ready to change now.”

 

 _” As you wish, Ian”_ Curtis grumbled out, his voice harsh but still somehow calming to Ian. 

 

He inhaled sharply as the first crack sounded through the room and a twinge of pain erupted in his left shoulder, but it was nowhere near the same amount of pain he felt the first time he changed. His bones popped quickly into place and Ian lifted a hand to watch as it transformed into a dark ginger paw. 

 

Before long he was sat on his and Mickey’s bed as a panting wolf, with much more control this time round. 

 

He leaped off the bed excitedly and walked towards the mirror they had on their small wardrobe, observing his wolf form for the first time. 

 

He was wide and tall, of similar stature to the one that bit him almost a year ago, but he was a mess of different shades of deep ginger and bright green eyes. To be honest, he could see features of his human form within his wolf form, and internally chuckled at the thought. 

 

He barked excitedly, before making his way towards the bedroom door and scratching at it lightly. Almost instantly, Mickey came bursting in, a look of worry on his face, but it immediately softened when he saw the wolf sitting in front of him, tongue hanging out dopily and panting heavily. 

 

“You alright?” Mickey asked, before reaching out and scratching behind the wolves’ ear. He practically melted into the touch, his throat rumbling with a sound akin to a purr and whined loudly when Mickey jokingly removed his hand. Mickey laughed happily before squatting down in front of the wolf, cupping his face in his hands and scratching the area around his ears again. He grinned widely as he lent forward and pressed his forehead to the wolves’, happily accepting the sloppy licks against his cheek and chin. “Well done.” 

 

Ian turned back about three hours later easier than he initially thought. Curtis was much more willing to listen to Ian now and gave him more of an influence during his time as a wolf, meaning he could request to be turned back whenever he deemed necessary. 

 

He was still extremely tired when he made it back to his human form, and his joints and bones still ached and creaked, but it was nowhere near the soul crushing exhaustion he felt after his wolf form had attacked Lip. This was like the sort of tired you get after a night out and it all hits you at once, easy to recover from but not so fun in the moment. 

 

Mickey let him sleep for as long as he needed to, but still excitedly called Theo to tell her the news. As expected, Theo’s reaction was over the top but well deserved, she practically screamed into the speaker before babbling about how proud she was of Ian and how she must see how cute his wolf form was. And honestly, Mickey agreed completely with everything she said and even added his own excited ramblings here and there, but eventually had to hang up when Theo’s talking hit the hour mark. 

 

He went back upstairs and observed Ian’s sleeping form from the doorway, just as he’d done the first time Ian had changed. Although, this time he was smiling serenely at his boyfriend, not an ounce of worry clouding his thoughts. 

 

Because Ian had done it. He’d managed to control the complication he had inside him, and Mickey couldn’t have been any prouder. 

 

Because they were okay. Ian was okay. 

 

Even with the friendly beast inside him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! comment and kudos if you enjoyed?  
> Twitter: mikhailomeddows  
> 


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